Rumors and Promises (9 page)

“Would you play something else for us?” Reverend McCormick placed his elbow on the piano.

“No, we should take our leave. Caira is sleepy, and I’m afraid I’ve already taken enough of your time.” She forced her mouth to shape a slight smile.

“At least have some pie with us first.” Maggie’s insistence broke her down.

“My sister really does make the best apple pie—rivals Esther’s, or should I say, your pie?” The reverend’s voice lowered, along with his chin.

Sophie regarded his shy compliment. “I’m afraid I could use more practice at baking pies.” Perhaps he only flattered her.

“You’re not far behind. The crust on that pie of yours that Esther gave Ian last Sunday was nearly as perfect as my mother’s.” Maggie nodded.

“Well then, Maggie, at least yours is better than our mother’s.” He winked at Sophie and then whispered, “If I don’t tell her that, I’ll never get her to bake again.”

“Shame on you, Ian. Nobody’s pie was better than our saintly mother’s!” She put her hands up in the air in what seemed a gesture of defeat.

Sophie couldn’t help herself smiling at the teasing way between the brother and sister. She enjoyed one more hour of that warm family circle before Maggie had her and Caira wrapped in blankets and on the sleigh, seated next to the Reverend McCormick.

Ian glanced over at his passengers. First, Caira yawned, and then her sister. The little bundle could hardly keep her eyes open. Miss Biddle tucked the blanket tighter around her younger sister with such love and devotion!

As the sleigh pulled up in front of the boardinghouse, Ian felt relief that the young woman seemed more relaxed than the day they had met. “Well, here we are already.” He pulled up on the reins.

“Thank you, Reverend.” Her amber eyes glowed with appreciation as she flashed him a shy smile.

“You are welcome to visit any time.” Ian cleared his throat. He hoped he wasn’t being forward, but he sensed that she needed friends she could trust and a place of refuge, in the absence of her real family. Why couldn’t he, Maggie and Philip provide that for her and Caira? “Maggie would enjoy having your company again, I’m sure. She’s tired of being the only lady around us men.”

Miss Biddle looked surprised. “I’m sure she must keep busy socially.”

“Being my sister, she often has to keep her guard up.” He studied the young woman before him. Even though they’d shared
a meal, and she’d spent time in his parlor, she looked nearly as shy as the day they’d first met.

“I think I understand how that is.” She chewed her lip and glanced down.

“But you and Caira seemed very comfortable.” Ian paused. “I hope I won’t seem too forward by mentioning what a lovely first name you have. Did you know in Greek it means ‘wisdom’?”

“It’s too bad I can’t claim that virtuous meaning for myself.” Her eyes seemed clouded with sadness.

How he would love to know the thoughts behind them! Ian sighed. It would take a long while for anyone to gain Sophie’s confidence. But there he was in territory where he didn’t belong again. His concern should be for her spiritual condition and physical safety, nothing more.

“I’m afraid it often comes with time. Though I’m sure with the large responsibility you’ve had placed on your shoulders, you have more wisdom than you realize.” Ian climbed down from the sleigh, intent on helping Sophie, but by the time he got to the other side, she was making her precarious way to the ground.

“At least let me take Caira from you.” He reached up for the sleeping toddler.

“All right.”

Ian carried Caira toward the door alongside Sophie. She stepped sideways after her elbow bumped his arm. When they reached the entrance, Ian cleared his throat. “I hope you’ll not think me impertinent, but we are in great need of a pianist at the church. I haven’t heard anyone play like you in a long time. Would you be willing to take the job?”

Her face turned crimson at his praise. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you’ll at least consider it. Please? I’m sure we could pay for skill such as yours though it may not be much.”

Sophie appeared to be pondering the offer. “I’ll think about it, then.”

As Ian pulled the sleigh away from the boardinghouse, he chuckled. Wouldn’t the elder board be surprised when he asked for a small stipend for a new pianist? And wouldn’t they be more astonished when the old sanctuary piano produced beautiful music by means of her amazing gift?

Sophie paced in front of Stone Creek Community Church. What had possessed her to further consider the position of church pianist? Wisps of steam curled into the frosty air as she breathed more quickly.

A week after he had asked, she had sent a note to Reverend McCormick telling him that she wanted to get the feel of the piano, to practice before she committed. She left Caira behind to nap with Esther Fairgrave close at hand. Now she stood on the path to the church. How long had it been since she had entered such a sanctuary?

Her view swept from the thick oak doors to the steeple pointing heavenward. Oh, Sophie desired to go to church again, but people always started asking questions. If only she could bring up Caira in peace!

Well, she owed the minister something for his kindness, she was positive of that. It would be a simple thing to do for him, and she could again practice and perhaps improve her ability. Besides, they needed the money, no matter how small an amount the pay might be.

Caira’s needs were paramount. If the congregation were as caring as their pastor, everything would be fine. Her daughter could be raised among decent folk, above reproach. Sophie’s life may have come to naught, but she couldn’t let Caira’s turn out
the same way. Maybe Sophie could finally earn the acceptance she craved for them both.

She swallowed and inhaled deeply. On the other side of the door in front of her stood a man who incurred her admiration as much as his seemingly ideal ways got under her skin in the short time since they had met.

Loud creaking pierced the cold, quiet air as she pulled the heavy door open. Her eyes adjusted to the darker inside of the building.

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. Reverend McCormick sat in the middle of the sanctuary with head bowed as though he were praying. She didn’t see anyone else. Then her memories of a different place dragged her where she didn’t want to go. The shining brass light fixtures sparkled like those in the large and elegant high-ceilinged Warner parlor had on that fateful day. Sophie stiffened as a pungent whiff of lemon oil on the polished wooden pews transported her back in time to a room where thick mahogany tables had been rubbed to a high gloss.

She stumbled forward and grasped the back of a bench as though she could anchor herself into the present. Her sweaty hands stuck to the finish. Instead of Reverend McCormick’s wavy black hair, Sophie saw straight brown hair. When he turned his head, she saw a face with a slanted scar. The man stood and strode toward her.
No! It couldn’t be
. He came closer. She let go of the pew—or was it a chair? And backed away, gasping for air with her heart thudding so loudly she was sure he could hear her fear. The light dimmed, and the room grew darker. The tall man clutched both her arms, but she was too weak to twist away.

CHAPTER 5

“S
ophie.” Was that Ian McCormick’s voice? “Sophie, are you ill?”

She opened her eyes. Where was she? Oh yes, the sanctuary. The hard wood of a pew pressed against her back. That was better than falling on the floor. Then she remembered what had made her faint—the memories of the day she’d been trying to forget. But what of such ugliness could she tell this godly man who must have lived a spotless life?

“Have you eaten anything today?”

Her tongue stuck like peanut butter to the roof of her mouth. She nodded. His warm hands engulfed her clammy one. She closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the lightheadedness to pass. Finally, her tongue loosened. “I-I’m not sure what happened.” That, at least, was the truth. The thought of being alone with a man in any building put Sophie out of sorts … but not usually quite that much. “Perhaps I just need some water. Where’s Maggie? I assumed she would be here.”

“She should be here shortly. You are a little early.” Her eyes focused to take in the reverend kneeling next to her. His furrowed brow revealed his obvious concern.

Sophie blinked and tried to sit up. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“You gave me quite a scare. Let me help you.” Reverend McCormick held one hand and supported her back with his other. “Stay right there, and I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Thank you.” She gazed around the sanctuary. Beams slanting high above the eggshell-colored room supported the cathedral ceiling. Even the grayish light of winter highlighted the spectrum of color that came through the stained glass windows. Though far different from the room she’d been catapulted into by her mind’s eye, she still found its appearance lofty. The wind howled outside. “Are we alone?”